#fic: Thanks for Saving Me

[hajihiko]

inspired by a convo with @miggylol, some Peko loving ❤ I wouldn't call it a xmas present but maybe ... a stocking stuffer?

[turtleofdamascus]

Corporal K. Reitveld and Nurse Ghafa, 1917

Inspired by the beautiful fic save the undone years by Whitherward @whatanybodygets

" ... she only sits beside him on the wall, and looks out at the scrubby grass, and the birds, and the grey clouds, while he smokes his fill. And then she helps him get upright, and hands him his crutches, and walks beside him in watchful silence as he limps his way painfully back to the ward."

Saw this pic of nurse and soldier actually months ago in May and decided to draw it after beautiful chapter 2. Let's ignore that Kaz is supposed to be in pajamas. He looks great in uniform.

Bonus: process

[kori-senpai]

Fanart for @honeydots Fire Emblem fanfic. I've been using it as a reason to fluke out of social interactions for the last two weeks and boy oh boy I will continue to do so >:)

[djarinova]

In shades of grey in candlelight / I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason

Spencer Reid x gn!reader content - reader is in an unfulfilling long term relationship, thoughts of cheating, best friend!Reid, friends to lovers, slight angst from reader longing to be loved properly again, cheating is slightly romanticised, confessions, teeny amount of angst words - 3k (how did this even happen omg) reputation event masterlist

♡—How long should you hold on to something after it's proven time and time again to be the source of your pain? And why does missing your best friend hurt so much more than missing your boyfriend?

It had been almost 4 weeks since you'd last spoken to Spencer—a mix of his work, the weekend he spent visiting his mother and the looming sense of… something… that had been hanging over your head like a dark cloud had kept the two of you apart for longer than usual.

Spencer would have been able to identify the issue that had been plaguing you, he's always been good at that—even before he'd joined the BAU.

He had been able to figure out that you'd failed a maths test when you were 12 years old. He had been able to tell when your parents had had a fight when you were 15 years old. He had been able to correctly work out that you'd ordered yourself the wrong flavour of milkshake—over the phone, without seeing your face—when you were 18 years old. And as you got older, your problems getting more and more adult, he had been able to figure out through missed calls and unanswered texts that you'd had your heart broken again. And again. And again.

That's what he would have said was the cause of your behaviour over the past few weeks—you've changed your hair, thrown out a bunch of old clothes, rearranged and then rearranged again almost all the rooms in your flat and you've been out drinking with your friends twice already this week (not that this is a particularly bad thing, or even entirely unlike you, but you mentioned to Spencer once that going to a bar or pub for a drink was only really fun when you were with him, and it had lit a spark deep within him that he refused to acknowledge). But this time you know he'd have gotten it wrong. You haven't broken up with anyone, you're still very much coupled up and there's no sign of your boyfriend wanting to dump you at all.

That's the problem.

You roll your eyes, there's no point in feeling sorry for myself. I'm the only one that can fix it.

You scoff. The faint smell of your neighbours baking wafts over you, and you can hear him and his boyfriend giggling through your shared wall. A lump in your throat begins to form, and the familiar sting behind your eyes returns as you busy your hands with tidying away the washing up (that you had accidentally washed three times now.) The tears that fall feel like they're burning your skin as they run down your cheeks, as though the droplets are going to leave small scalding streaks from your eyes to your chin.

A new wave of bitterness envelopes you and a strangled yell escapes your lips before you have the chance to think. You hear your neighbour's pause, likely raising their eyebrows at each other as if to say what the hell is wrong with next door before quickly returning to being the lovey-dovey super cutesy couple that they are. And they are. Super cutesy. You've seen them around the building before, even one time accidentally ending up in the same café after a building wide fire alarm went off. They invited you to sit with them—your boyfriend was with his mates—as they didn't want you left on your own so late at night. It was nice, awkward, sure, but nice. Conversation was easy, they seemed to bounce off of eachother in ways that you and your boyfriend never have—at least not for many years now. Their laughter was contagious and yet as you said your goodbyes and slunk back to your lonely apartment you couldn't help the twinges of envy that plagued the back of your mind.

He doesn't look at me like that. He is never that enthusiastic about dating me. He would never gush about our first date like that. (And deep down you know he could say the same things about you.)

So, yeah. That wasn't very fun to sit with.

You somehow feel happy knowing that Spencer would incorrectly guess the reason for your ongoing sadness. For some reason the thought of being unknowable to him has you frenzied… A strangled noise escapes your throat—a laugh! Christ. It was a laugh, despite how bitter and angry it sounded.

Maybe frenzied isn't the right word… But god! You don't know! At least he would actually care. At least he would want to try and get to the bottom of your feelings, to try and understand why you've been jumpy and on edge and almost hyperactive in the way you've been non stop moving recently.

Tap tap tap.

The noise makes you jump out of your skin, heart thumping in your chest as your eyes dart to the clock. It blinks back at you.

20:37

You chastise yourself, it's probably next door coming to ask if you could keep your yells of frustration down while they're having a relaxing evening. Embarrassment floods over your face and you can feel the tears threaten to fall again at the thought of being confronted about your outburst. You can imagine the look of pity on their faces—although a hidden part of you hopes that they're coming to invite you over, to welcome you into their warm home, to smell their freshly baked bread and taste the chocolate chip cookies.

Your feet pad heavily against the wooden floor as you walk out of the kitchen towards the front door—tap tap tap. A further set of knocks has you almost tripping over your feet as you rush the final few paces. You swing the door open without a thought, not wanting the neighbours to have to knock again.

You spare no thought to the tear stains that have marked your face…

“I'm so sorry I didn't mean to be—Spencer? Wha–what are you doing here?” You splutter.

“I tried calling, but you didn't answer. Have you been crying?”

“I—well, yes I have but it's fine—I didn't expect to see you, you've been so busy lately.” You take a deep breath, for a brief second—and it was brief—you had been relieved to find that it was only Spencer behind the door, but it didn't take long for the embarrassment to claw its way back up your spine and sink its teeth into your flesh once more.

His eyes bore into you as if he's trying to look inside you. He scans your face, your movements, he watches your hands fidget nervously with the hem of your shirt—before you notice him noticing you and you flatten your palms against your sides in an awkward, unnatural manner.

“May I come in?” He asks, his voice is gentle and it's almost enough to make you fall to the floor in despair.

A hum is all you can manage in response. You quickly side step out of his way, locking the door behind him as he removes his jacket and scarf and hangs then neatly on the third hook from the left—the one that's always left bare, just for him.

You clear your throat. “What are you doing here, Spence?”

He pauses mid stride—he’s already halfway to the kitchen and if you had known he was coming over then there would a cup of coffee on the side waiting for him, in his favourite burgundy mug, the one with a chip on the lip—and tilts his head at you as if to say isn't it obvious.

“I'm here to see you.” He states, incredibly matter of factly, as if the mere question coming from your lips is completely ridiculous. Why else would he be here?

“I—” You start, but Spencer disappears around the corner before you are able to get any more words out. You huff, feeling slightly unnerved by his sudden arrival and subsequent behaviour since setting foot on your doorstep. There is nothing else in the world that can make you as happy as he can. Something which both terrifies you, and excites you a great deal.

You step foot into the kitchen and you are unsurprised to find Spencer already in the process of making himself a coffee. He pauses once more when he catches sight of you and he holds a second mug out towards you in question. You shake your head. You don't think you'd be able to stomach anything until you can get him to speak to you properly.

A thought suddenly occurs to you, and it may be the first time you ever fully allow yourself to truly think it. Because although it's not unusual for Spencer to visit you in the evening, sometimes even coming over as late as 1 or 2 in the morning—he gets back from cases at the most unpredictable times—do people think you're seeing each other? The two of you have been friends for years, it's not weird for a friend to come over at all hours of the day… right?

“Spence, are you alright?” You pause, eyeing his very full cup of caffeine. “Haven't you just got back from a case? I can make up the sofa bed if you want to get some sleep.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Why do I feel so weird about asking him to stay over? We're friends. It's what friends do.

“I have something I need to talk to you about.” He ignores your questions, but you can't bring yourself to be annoyed at him. Not when his knuckles are white from how hard he grips the cup and his eyes flit from your hands to your eyes to your mouth and back to your hands.

Wait—your mouth?!

“I have something I need to talk to you about.” He repeats. He closes the gap between the two of you with only a couple of steps. His steaming coffee is still clutched in his hands, but his fingertips seem restless, as if he knows where he wants them to be, but he just can't—or won't—move them there.

“Okay.” You whisper.

Your mouth feels dry—maybe turning down Spencer’s offer for a coffee was a mistake… He's barely an arms length away from you now, if you were to reach your hand out towards him it would brush up against the navy cardigan he has on. It looks so soft and you can't help but wonder how it would feel around your shoulders. Would it be baggy? Would it fit perfectly? And would Spencer want to come back from a case to find you curled up on the sofa while wearing it?

Your neighbour’s laughter ripples through the air like thunder. It's gone before you have time to register the noise fully, but it's enough to snap you out of your trance and you tear your eyes away from Spencer's torso. It was as though he was waiting for you to make eye contact with him again, because he immediately puts his cup down on the side—more clumsily than usual, you'd be surprised if there wasn't an extra chip on the lip now—and takes the smallest of steps towards you. You are almost toe to toe now.

“I–uh–meant to ask you earlier… about your boyfriend.” He hesitates. “Presumably he's not around…”

There's two ways you could take his question.

Part of you wants to lie, to say that no, he's not around, you dumped him months ago—when your friends first told you that you should—and that you weren't expecting any company tonight. It would be just you and Spencer, no interruptions. Besides, Spencer knows that your boyfriend doesn't live with you, it's been the topic of many a heated discussion, but… could you just pretend you misunderstood? Could you say that no, he's not around, he's probably out with his friends somewhere. Could you admit that he hasn't texted you back in almost 4 days? Could you say he's not around, in fact, he hasn't been around you for 12 days?

But Spencer doesn't give you any time to think through what to say. You gasp when his hand touches your arm and he laces his fingers through yours without so much as a word, as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. As if he had done it a thousand times. The certainty with which he touched you has your heart pounding. What is he thinking? All you can do is blink up at him. His eyes are swimming with questions, but the only one he voices is, “Is this okay?”

Your head moves before you can think and he breathes a deep sigh of relief. You haven't felt as calm as this in months, and yet somehow it feels like you're suffocating. His touch is warm and the dusting of pink on his cheeks has you feeling a rush of anxiety—but the good kind, the kind of anxiety you get when your crush looks at you, the kind that comes hand in hand with a first kiss… And yet you know you need to pull away. Before something more happens.

You force yourself to pull your hand out of Spencer's and the emptiness returns immediately. You stumble away, bumping into the counter as you do so, and you utter a small yelp when your hip hits the corner. Tears sting your eyes and before you know it Spencer has his arms around you. Somehow knowing what you need before you are even able to think it. You choke out a broken apology—for what, you don't even know—and all Spencer can think to do is squeeze you against his chest, whispering soft comforts into your ear.

You stay like that for a while—long enough that the pain at your hip is now only a dull ache. Your throat is dry from all the heavy breathing and you feel a slight throbbing pain in your head, but you do, somehow, feel a little better.

That is until your emotionally fried brain catches up with itself. And then you cringe, hard. Embarrassment floods your veins and you feel your cheeks heat up by an alarming degree—like someone, somehow, is holding the sun directly against your skin. You are acutely aware of how closely Spencer is watching you, but you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes, unsure of whether there's a look of hurt, confusion or pity on his face—unsure of whether it matters—and all you can do is stare through your blurry eyes at what you think is your feet, but what could just as easily be a pair of furry, blue alien slippers.

You scold yourself. You fell apart all because he... held your hand? God. What a mess he must think you are. And—oh! How he probably thinks you are the worst person in the world for even entertaining the possibility of his feelings for you when you aren't even single. If he even thinks that what you did was entertaining the possibility. Or maybe you completely misread the situation and he was only trying to comfort you as a friend... But what if he thinks you have no interest in him? What if he thinks he's ruined your friendship and your relationship? What if you're reading into things far too much and he doesn't like you like that and he thinks you're a bad person for even thinking about kissing him–not that he would know that, he can't read your mind–and you've certainly never thought about kissing him before and especially not right now–he doesn't know how much you long for him to sweep your off your feet—

"I like you Spencer."

You blink. Slowly you bring your head up and meet his gaze. He takes a shallow breath, as if he had been holding it for quite some time.

Christ.

You only meant to think the words, and yet somehow they slipped past your tongue out into the space between the two of you. An accidental confession of something you hadn't even consciously thought until 0.2 seconds ago.

Well I can't take it back now.

He holds your gaze. His vision blurs ever so slightly and he blinks back his unshed tears before they get the chance to overwhelm him. He clears his throat before speaking, but even then his voice is low, quiet, as if trying not to spook an animal.

"You... do?"

You nod, and he takes another obvious sigh of relief, deeper this time.

"I do. I like you a lot actually."

It's as though hearing you voice your feelings for him has broken down the very last wall between the two of you. Your mind flits briefly to thoughts about your boyfriend, before shutting them down so violently that you almost feel sick. You taste metal in your mouth and you realise with a start that you'd bitten down so hard on your lip that you'd drawn blood. You reach for the closest available source to wash the bitter taste away—Spencer's coffee. And he watches as you take a sip, your eyes are closed but somehow he can sense that they are closer to shedding tears than his are. He reaches an arm towards you and gently begins to rub soothing circles on your waist. The touch sends an electric pulse throughout your entire body and you almost drop the mug in shock. It's like all at once you realise just how stupid you were for allowing yourself to be so miserable for all this time. Why have you been putting up with a boyfriend who barely touches you when one touch from Spencer has your insides burning? Why have you been putting up with a boyfriend who doesn't care about your feelings unless they are positively affecting him, when the first thing Spencer asked you tonight was if you had been crying?

For right now all you care about is the way Spencer's eyes glisten when they look at you, how warm his hands are when they touch your face and how the quiet laughter from your neighbours no longer makes you feel as lonely as it did before.

You felt like such a fool. But it seemed like realising this fact was enough to set you free. It seemed like the acknowledgement was enough. You didn't give any thought now to the things you would have to do this coming week—the breaking up, the collection of your things from his place (although at this point there is only a toothbrush and a single pair of joggers that haven't moved from their place on the back of his sofa since you washed them and left them there). Hell, even the possibility of having Spencer there with you hadn't crossed your mind.

[yinyuedijun]

thank you to quinn @/madaqueue for tagging me in this game <3 used this website to make book covers of fics by some of my favourite authors!

featuring: do not say Home by @seoafin / cannibals by @inthedayswhenlandswerefew / coin toss by @aimfor-theheart / seabird by @m1ckeyb3rry

open tags!

[e-turn]

That moment from Chapter 7 of IMBI

Oh it has my heart in its claws

hey @dandylovesturtles sorry it's me again

Do I express how much I love IMBI enough? Anyway, I love it with my whole heart.

[esselley]

Kirishima has added Bakugou, Yaoyorozu, and Iida to the chat. Todoroki: wait what Yaoyorozu: So, you remember that Friends of Todoroki support group I told you about a while back…? Todoroki: it's YOU FOUR???

COMPLETED.

Read the 5th and final chapter on AO3.

Chapters: 5 / 5 Rating: Not Rated Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto Additional Tags: Texting, Todoroki’s POV in Thanks for Saving Me, (via text messages), Chatting & Messaging, chat fic, Humor, Fluff, Friendship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feelings Realization, Minor Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou Series: Part 2 of Thanks for Saving Me

[johnslittlespoon]

Wrapped Around Your Finger (You Say That I'm A Home Run)

[WC: 3K | Gale Cleven/John Egan, Wound Care, Blow Jobs, Light Dom/Sub, Coming In Pants, Praise Kink, PWP]

“Stay still,” Gale murmurs, gripping his jaw tighter, and a quiet whine climbs up John’s throat, feeling the dabs of the cotton pause for just a moment before Gale continues on.

The bruising ache, the firm hand on his face, the close proximity, Gale’s flat commands– it’s all making his skin itch, heat rising to the surface as his mouth goes a little dry. He instinctively closes his legs around Gale’s sides to stop him from getting close enough when he moves in to observe the deeper split above his brow, and Gale pulls back, levelling him with an irritated stare.

[AO3 LINK]

[collectorskeys]

@deadinquiry i liked ur fic with theee the the pre game stuff i likd it a lot s . its so fire. this is how im looking at you .

[shang-qinghuas-naptime]

What does the An Ding almanac suggest for efficient handling of paperwork? The lord of a peak I shall not name dumped me with his paperworks and dissapeared into his house. I'm not even his head disciple anymore!

Hi yes! Sorry for the wait! An Ding has been experiencing some technical difficulties I was absolutely not taking a nap and forgot. We apologize for any inconvenience caused by this delay!!

As you can see, we at An Ding know exactly what to do when we have a lot of paperwork to do!! We cry in a messy puddle of depression noodles and then we nap about it because naps fix everything!! Don't believe me? Try it! Go take a nap 😎

Alternatively, we suggest starting an assembly line! Gather all the junior disciples together (bribe them with treats) and have each one do one task on each page and pass it down the line. Sign the final cop and take naps in shifts!

Obviously, nothing could go wrong with this!!

[call-spoiler]

i love stephanie brown so much i’m gonna be sick i have twelve diseases i’ll die tomorrow

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

Happy Wednesday! This week, LLH and DFS finally fight--with words, not swords, of course, but it's no less vicious. Here's the opening of that argument.

(You can find earlier excerpts here.)

Di Feisheng flung more qi at the acupoint to reinforce the barrier, forced himself not to wince at the spike of pain it triggered, and took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing his lungs steady. “I’ve told you: It’s not a problem Yangzhouman can fix,” he gritted out. “You have your answer. Now drop it.” 

Li Lianhua stared at him a minute more, his eyes narrowed, then he nodded to himself, the corner of his lips curling up in a faint, pained smile. He looked down at his thumb, stroking the fur on his cloak. “No,” he said at last. “I won’t. I refuse to cause you any more pain.”

Di Feisheng froze, the words a slap in the face. A whooshing noise filled his ears and his vision went gray around the edges. “You don’t want to hurt me? Then don’t die.” 

Li Lianhua closed his eyes and bowed his head. “A-Fei–”

“–Is that too unclear? Then hear this: your death would hurt me more than any headache, sword, or torture ever could.”

Li Lianhua buried his fingers in the fur collar. 

“The question, Li Xiangyi,” Di Feisheng growled, his qi howling through his meridians, his entire body vibrating with it, “is why do you keep insisting otherwise? Do you think I’m lying? Are you lying to yourself? Or do you just want me to beg you on my knees?” 

For several long seconds, Xiangyi was motionless, apart from the slight rise and fall of his chest with his breath. 

He slowly lifted his head, every cùn dripping with command, and pierced Di Feisheng with a glare every bit as sharp as Shaoshi had been. A look he’d hardly seen in the last decade. “That’s not my name,” he said, his voice colder than it had been since their battle on the sea. “Li Xiangyi is dead.”

[sugarpasteltmnt]

Hi! Sorry if it's a little bit late, I just wanted to say: Happy Anniversary!!! 🥳

WAAAAAAA THANK YOU

[kameyyy]

I was just mentally writing a tumblr post abt how I need that iphone asap so I can preview a chat when I don't wanna answer (if I archived them I don't get notifications) and then I was like — wait.. I don't have read-reciepts on, they won't know I read their messages 😭😭😭

[mavibonghostexpress]

if art request are still open, Oliver and Douglas but holding hands

They're actually pretty adorable ngl

[necrotic-nephilim]

6,23

for the choose violence ask game!

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

oooh, this is hard. generally any sort of "fans of this thing are annoying" for me comes with the caveat that i don't think it's *all* fans and i don't even think it's most fans, but rather a loud minority that has shaped the ship as a whole. for some reason JayRoy tends to come to mind the most, because i've been slowly dipping my toes into the Arrowfamily and i cannot *stand* any JayRoy opinions on Oliver's parenting. i think JayRoy can be blamed for a *lot* of the misunderstandings some fans have about Oliver and Roy's relationship, as well as the existence of the Arrowfam in the first place beyond just Oliver, Roy, Dinah, and inexplicably Artemis Crock, bc Young Justice (tv) will never stop leaving its mark.

any time someone gets shipped with a Batfam member, their entire fandom presence surrounds the Batfamily and headcanons are all about Bruce adopting them too and them just being another face in Wayne Manor. and for whatever reason, Roy is one of the worst victims of this. so much JayRoy content doesn't even care to acknowledge Roy's bonds with the Arrowfam, his *daughter*, his complex relationship with Chesire, his relationship with the Titans and the Outsiders, and so forth. he's just Jason's rescue boyfriend. if i have to see one more JayRoy fan act like Bruce needs to save Roy from Oliver and they badly cite Snowbirds Don't Fly, i might lose it.

i think this could also extend to TimKon as well, with a *lot* of TimKon fans not understanding Kon's relationship to the Superfamily and *grossly* demonizing Clark for the sake of Kon being Tim's rescue boyfriend. like the misunderstandings fanon has about Clark and Kon will never not infuriate me, and i *do* think TimKon carries a brunt of that blame bc it falls into the "Kon is another orphan that Bruce takes in" vibes.

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

JayRose i think is a recent one! i used to dislike JayRose bc it felt underdeveloped and like slapping two characters with daddy issues together, but i've lately been more and more enticed by it bc of a beloved anon who has so many delightful JayTimRose thoughts. ironically i could also say JayRoyTim, bc initially it was not my speed but once again, some anons have begrudgingly convinced me, which is impressive bc i never thought i would come around to a ship involving JayRoy for all of the above reasons. i've also been coming around to BatJokes as of recent. i never hated BatJokes but it was certainly never For Me. lately though, that faith has been questioned and i've been interested in it.

the one i've been very unwilling to but have somehow gotten dragged into is JayTalia. i was always turned off by how that was handled in Lost Days and hated the pairing. but... i've been enticed by the dead dove potential of it. i'm being converted. to be fair i still think it was mishandled in Lost Days but... i'm sort of coming around to enjoying it for what it is. idk how i ended up here but i will take any excuse to whump Jason.